#as per fucking usual. whos surprised anymore

[nasty-dungeon]

ive been busy.

[sinkableruby]

luffy doesn't have a tumblr but there's a 500k note post about him from one of the crew that does (going with robin)

YEAAHHHH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH THATS PERFECT THATS EXACTLY TRUE

ahem

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

Today officially marks the day my friend has been permanently banned from one thousand restaurants. He's very unhappy about it, but I couldn't be more proud of him. It takes dedication to achieve something like that.

🐬 nauticalradical Follow

There's no way he got banned from 1000 separate restaurants come on at least make it believable

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

No, it really was a thousand, if I'm counting properly. He's always hungry, so he's always looking for new places to eat at, but whenever he finds one he orders so much food that they usually run out of ingredients and the chefs and other customers get upset. Then he tries to pay the bill with his "treasure tab," which is basically money he doesn't have yet but plans on getting in the future.

🍐 eating-all-your-pears Follow

UHH I THINK THAT'S JUST CALLED STEALING???

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

Normally I would agree, but to him it's not. He still intends to pay all of them back, and he thinks all the restaurant owners are being stingy for not letting him back in.

👹 houseoftwigs Follow

OP I'd like to study your friend in a lab

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

I'm already studying him, so you can't.

⚓ marine-triologist789 Follow

Wait, hold on, something doesn't add up here. If he really didn't pay for any of those meals, wouldn't he have been arrested by now??? Like, you can't just go to a bunch of restaurants, eat all their food, not pay, and then not get arrested for it, right?? Am I crazy???

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

The police have been after him for a long time now, but he's really good at evading them. He actually broke into prison once to bust his brother out and they still couldn't catch him, which is honestly embarrassing, in my opinion.

🐸 froghopper47 Follow

WHAT

🧊 tumdruh Follow

✌ be-free-drink-piss Follow

WHAT A FUCKING LEGEND

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

He had to go into hiding after that, though, or they really might have caught him. When he saw me again for the first time in 2 years, the first words he spoke directly to me were "do you have any meat?"

🌵 spicegirl Follow

SOMEONE FEED THIS MAN

👗 superdress Follow

this dude isa fucking alien who the fuck walks up to someone and asks them for meat straight up

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

He really likes meat.

🌪 the-windsmeth Follow

"average person has a carbon footprint of 4 tons per year" factoid is actually just a statistical error. Meat Menace, who eats 10,000 pounds of meat each day, is an outlier and should not have been counted

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

He might actually eat that much in a day. I wouldn't be surprised. His stomach is probably bottomless. Maybe it's for the best that he can't go to restaurants anymore.

🐩 yaarrrrp Follow

🏴‍☠️ piratelover69 Follow

op is there anything else we should know about this guy????

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

Not really. He did grow up in the woods, though.

🏴‍☠️ piratelover69 Follow

HELLO?? IS HE OKAY???

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

He's fine. Also, he doesn't know what sex is.

🏴‍☠️ piratelover69 Follow

DID HE NOT GET AN EDUCATION???? WHERE DOES HE THINK BABIES COME FROM THEN???????

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

Good question. Hold on, I'm going to ask him.

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

He said it's one of life's greatest mysteries.

😊 delicate-tempest Follow

OP you told him where they come from right???? OP??????????

🌃 felldownthestairslol Follow

op please get this man on tumblr we have to talk to the meat menace

📚 devilish-archeologist79 Follow

No.

503k notes

[k31raaa]

|eating out jinx to help her relax

this is unfortunately pretty basic as ive re fractured my wrist😭 just some lovely pussy eating and some sweet fluff scattered in

jinx is red text, ur pink xx

Jinx has been sat at her work bench for, well you would guess around 18 hours. you have barely heard a peep out the blue haired girl, a simple “love you, be safe!” could be heard when you informed her you were going out to the market. she needs a BREAK. she would never take one herself, so you took matters into your own hands.

You tiptoed from the bed and over to your girlfriend, who was sitting in a beautifully unique sitting pose as per usual. she had “get jinxed!” playing in a low volume while she hummed along, tapping her thumb to the beat. you slipped your arms over her shoulders, immediately pressing a simple smooch onto the space under her ear. you could tell she was over worked by the slowed movements unlike her usual fast, unpredictable ones. she tilted her head to look at you with a smile that just made you melt. “hey cutie” her eyes resemble that time you two got unbelievably stoned together. you smiled back. “you uh, almost.. done?.. i miss you.” you said in the sweetest voice you could yet it still betrayed the confusion you felt, you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what’s taking so much of your girlfriends time that should be spent on you. she looked guilty, she clearly felt bad, which obviously made your heart ache. you didn’t come here with the goal to upset her, maybe.. make her cry for another reason. and thats what you did.

“a-ah, fuck, right t-there!” she says in the most deliciously whiny tone, hands ruthlessly grabbing at your scalp, filling your head with the perfect burn, one that makes you grind your throbbing clit into anything in reach. your tongue flicked in a perfect pattern to have jinx forgetting all about her silly project, and to focus on the fact you slipped one or two fingers into her dripping hole. sick of watching in awe while it clench onto nothing but itsself , while ur fingers did nothing but try to run from the temptation of stuffing yourself full. each noise you couldnt fully swallow down vibrates against her pussy as you skill fully made out with it, spending plenty of time in your favourite place to of fully memorised what jinx adores. “c-coming, baby, mmph, shitt-!” she cut herself off with a silent scream. the way her back arched your surprised it didnt snap. her gummy walls tightened so hard you couldn’t thrust your fingers anymore, thinking they might pop off if you pulled too hard. you weren’t planning on stopping just yet but the way she panted and shoved your head away you decided to play nice, pressing one last kiss to her clit as your kissed trailed up, stopping on her cheek as you pulled her weak, small frame into your arms, cooing as she clawed at your arm for an unknown reason. probably a desperate attempt to ground herself from cloud 8. your hand gently scratches at the base of her scalp while you fill her ears up with the kindest words she used to only dream of hearing.

yeahokay sorry this is shit. i started it at 6am and its now 6:43am. IM TIRED and my wrist hurts. i love you guys, take care 💚

[that1emowitch]

Bruce, high on painkillers, is being babysat by Jason. Jason has to do an emergency Red Hood thing, and lacking an alternative, slaps a stock domino on Bruce and drags him along.

Bruce proceeds to say/do the most unhinged shit. The goons are suddenly viscerally aware of where Hood got it from.

WOW okay you guys are unhinged, you know that?

(And I love it <3)

A/N: I fully intended to write a crack fic, but the feels crawled in through the plot holes I missed and made their homes in the heart of the story. Also I don't know what you mean by 'stock domino' so I'm assuming it's one of those dollar store ripoffs.

(TW: Accidental overdosing on painkillers, mentions of blood, Jason's usual level of swearing, some goons almost dying but like in a funny way.)

Word Count: 2328

Jason wants to scream.

Like, let it rip out on an abandoned cliff in the howling rain kinda scream.

But no, he's stuck babysitting Brucie Wayne who accidentally OD'd on fucking painkillers after trying to treat himself in Alfred's unfortunate absence (how does that even happen?!).

Dick and Damian are out doing some brotherly-bonding thing, Tim's with the Titans, Duke and Cass are at the movies, and Steph has declared herself "not one of Bruce's kids." Leaving Jason as the only one free to look after their "Dad".

Jason pushes Bruce down on the Batcave's gurney for the billionth time after he attempts (keyword: attempts) to walk again, scowling. None of them are getting any waffles from me again. Or pancakes. Or scones. Or anything I make for them out of my sweet, kind heart. Those little shits.

Jason puts two fingers on Bruce’s wrist, checking his pulse. His skin is cold and clammy, breathing slow, but at least he’s not vomiting anymore. He sighs, collapsing on a chair beside Bruce. He's tired. So fucking tired.

Just as Jason's eyes flutter shut for a moment, the Batcomputer's alarm suddenly blares.

Bruce shoots up, shouting, "ALARM!"

Grumbling, Jason drags himself to the computer, pushing Bruce down along the way. He opens the glaring red notification, brows creased.

Black Mask's goons have intercepted some military shipment...

"Ugh..." Jason groans, and moves to put on his helmet (he never changed out of his costume), checking his guns, when a sudden crash from behind him snaps his attention to the man-child he's supposed to be babysitting.

Bruce has stepped off the gurney and collapsed face-down on the med bay's floor.

He can't just leave him there, can he?

Jason considers his options: He could either strap Bruce to the gurney and leave (in which case Dick will have his head), or he could take Bruce out on the streets with him (in which case Dick will absolutely want to murder him.)

Jason smirks. It’s obvious which one’s the right choice.

Ten minutes later, Jason’s riding through the city at over a hundred miles per hour, with Bruce strapped to the backseat of his motorcycle. Bruce is wearing a dollar store ripoff of the Robin domino and a Robin-themed cape made of Tim’s bedsheets, looking absolutely ecstatic at the high speed.

They arrive at the warehouse where Black Mask’s goons have transported their stolen goods, parking in a shadowed spot a building away. Jason gets off, helping Bruce onto his feet, and says, “Now, I’m going to go shoot some people, you stay hidden and quiet, got that?”

“Guns are bad,” Bruce replies, holding a finger to Jason’s helmet. “Just like clowns. And ducks.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jason shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this right now.

Jason quickly scales the nearest building, grappling to the roof of the warehouse. He peeks in through a hatch in the roof to survey the area. There are about a dozen armed goons, none of them looking very bright. There are 4 crates they’re guarding, likely filled with ammo.

Cocking his guns, Jason jumps down through the hatch, landing right in the middle of the warehouse with a ‘thud’ sound. “Surprise,” He grins, raising his guns.

“Aye, that’s Red Hood, ain’t it?” Comes a goon’s terrified voice. The others around him immediately aim their guns at Jason— they’re clearly untrained.

Suddenly there’s another thud behind him. “That’s a bucket, you morons!” Comes a too-familiar, slurred voice. Jason turns around to come face-to-face with Bruce, eyes wide. 

In a fight with any real criminals, this distraction would have cost Jason his life. But luckily these adorably clueless goons are just as shocked as him.

Unfortunately the distraction only lasts for a few seconds. Jason immediately jumps into the fight, shooting three goons in the kneecaps and dodging a few bullets. From the corner of his eye, he sees two more goons running out the door, crying. He punches another guy in the face, instantly knocking him out, and is about to turn back to check on Bruce when suddenly something hard collides with his skull.

Jason staggers slightly, trying to regain his balance, when he sees a goon holding a giant stone, wearing a proud grin.

Fuck, his helmet’s probably busted…

Then suddenly Bruce is running towards the goon, hands fisted and veins popping, screaming, “NO ONE HURTS MY SON!”

Then Bruce’s fist collides with the goon’s with a sickening crunch, splattering blood across the floor as the man crumples to the ground. Bruce doesn’t stop there, and continues to beat him up, yelling profanities.

It warms Jason’s cold, (un)dead heart to watch that— to see his Dad fighting for him. It’s like they say, you’re most truthful when you’re drunk— or high. This is how much Bruce loves him.

Then another thought strikes him— Bruce is going to regret being this violent when he sobers up. It’s going to claw at him, tear him up, and he’s going to compartmentalize and end up punishing himself by overworking.

Jason rushes forward, pulling Bruce off of the man. “B— Robin, stop!” He shouted, looking into the man’s domino-covered eyes.

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Robin?”

Jason points to Bruce’s Robin-themed cape and stock domino.

“Ah.” Bruce nods, pulling away. “You okay? Did you see any duck?”

“Duck?” Jason pauses in confusion. But before he can question it farther, he spies the three remaining goons using a ladder to climb up through the roof of the warehouse, trying to escape.

“Stay here. And do not move.” Jason orders Bruce, and runs after them.

He makes his way up the ladder as fast as he can , exiting under the polluted night sky. The goons, the ridiculously stupid goons, are standing around the edge of the roof, trying to figure out how they’re going to get down.

He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this ridiculous shit.

Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t get paid at all.

“Wow, you guys are pathetic,” Comes Red Hood’s robotic voice, startling the goons, and one of them accidentally topples over the edge, screaming. Jason ensures that the guy’s hanging on tight— he can wait.

He cocks his guns, aiming both at the two standing goons. Both men are trembling with fear, hands up in surrender. “Hood— Mr. Hood, please—” One of them squeaks, but one look from Jason shuts him up.

“Please. Mr. Hood was my father,” Jason quips, his robotic chuckle sounding sinister. 

That’s when he hears another voice behind him (again)— “But I’m your father.”

Jason jumps, whipping around. “How did you— I didn’t even hear you come!”

Bruce just shrugs innocently, waving his bloodstained hands at the terrified goons.

Then Jason hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. From the corner of his eye he sees the bolder of the goons, the one that had spoken before, taking aim.

“DUCK!” He yells, falling out of the way.

Instead of dodging, Bruce falls into a defensive stance, looking around frantically. “Where?!”

The bullet barely misses Bruce’s ear as he turns his head.

Jason has had it with sky-high Bruce now. Annoyance rising, he quickly shoots the two goons in the kneecaps, forgetting about the one hanging off the edge, and stalks up to Bruce, glaring.

“What is up with you and ducks?!” He demands, his voice raised.

“Ducks are evil,” Bruce spits, nose wrinkled. “Just like clowns. And bats.”

Jason’s brows raise. “Bats are evil?”

“Yeah, duh, that’s why everyone’s scared of Batman.” Bruce rolls his eyes, his drawl sounding too much like Steph. “Bats are scary.”

“You really took ‘become what you fear’ too literally, huh?” Jason snorts, putting his guns back in their holsters. Then he takes off his helmet, checking the damage— just a slight crack at the back. Not too bad.

“You know, I fell into a hole and into a cave when I was a boy and a dozen bats attacked me. I nearly died.” Bruce continues, gesturing towards the air with his hands. 

“Yeah, right.” Jason shakes his head, chuckling. “Now come on, we gotta get you back.”

That’s when another voice rings out, high-pitched and scared. “Um, Mr. Hood? Please HELP! Please, please, please—”

Jason’s attention snaps to the corner of the roof— ah, right, the goon’s still hanging off the edge, isn’t he?

He grumbles, making his way over, and squats above the man, shaking his head. The man below him looks like he’s pissed himself, face ashen, tears running down his cheeks, muttering, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” On repeat.

“I’ll pull you up on one condition,” Jason looks down at him, voice low. “Never become a gun for hire again. If I see you fighting on the streets…” He pulls out his gun.

“No, no, I won’t, I swear…” The man whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Jason sighs, and grabs the man by the collar and hauls him up. He crumples onto the roof, curling into a ball.

“Take out your phone and dial 911, tell them you’ve been naughty,” Jason orders, his gun pointed at the man’s head. (What? A guy needs to have some fun.)

The man whines, and immediately obliges.

“Pathetic,” Jason ties the man up quickly, and makes his way over to Bruce, who was sitting on the floor of the roof, taking apart some random crushed handphone he’s found.

“Get up, old man. GCPD will be here soon. We’re going home.” He pulls Bruce up, ignoring how he longingly stares at the dismantled phone.

The two of them grapple down from the roof, landing safely on the pavement. As they walk towards his bike, Bruce says, “Did you know I ate a phone once?”

Jason stumbles slightly. “What?”

“Tasted nice. Like electricity. Crackle-y.” Bruce hummed, his face straight (as straight as someone dating Superman could be). He isn't kidding.

That, or he's delusional.

“Don't try it. You might turn into a computer or something.” Bruce nodded very seriously.

“Oh god,” Jason snorts. “I'm so glad my helmet’s recording all this. Perfect blackmail material.”

“Black's a very, very pretty color.”

Jason rolls his eyes, revving the motor, making sure Bruce is safely strapped onto the backseat behind him. “You're just emo.”

“What's emo?” Bruce raises an eyebrow, words slightly slurred.

“Y'know, when people wear all that black makeup, skinny jeans, with hair covering their eyes.” Jason explains, putting a spare helmet on Bruce's head. “And listen to, like, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. The Emo Trinity.”

“Oh, oh!” Bruce's eyes sparkle. “Dickie used to do that! He went to a My Chemmy concert once, but he didn't want me coming along.” He pouts.

Jason thinks of all the times Gerard Way has shoved a mic down his throat and grabbed his junk. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Then he turns around to look Bruce in the eye. “But, Golden Boy was emo? Seriously?”

Bruce just smiles and nods, saying, “Now go.”

“Going,” Jason smirks and speeds down the streets of Gotham city, not slowing down until their surroundings change from shitty apartment buildings and broken street lights to the eerie quiet of Bristol. He can see the Manor in the distance when he takes a hidden turn, straight down the road that leads to the Batcave. 

He pulls into the underground ‘garage’ section of the Cave, parking his bike before helping Bruce off. As he removes Bruce’s ripoff domino and “cape”, he says sternly, “Now, you tell no one of what we did today, got that? Not a soul.”

Bruce just flashes a thumbs-up and smiles in the most un-Bruce-like way possible. It’s a little creepy, honestly.

“And even if you remember this once you sober up you won’t talk, because you swore on your soul not to tell.”

“Mhm. Kay.”

“Good.” Jason smiles slightly, helping Bruce back to the gurney, making him lie down. He checks him over for any symptoms that the painkiller overdose is making his health worse. His skin’s still cold and clammy, but his breathing’s more steady. His pupils aren’t as small anymore, and he’s way more responsive than he was an hour ago.

Huh. Maybe all he really needed was some exercise.

Jason sits down beside his father, taking a deep breath. “Hey, uh… Did you really mean that, back there? That… That I’m your son?”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Yes, who else’s son would you be? Superman’s?”

A short laugh escapes Jason. He moves closer to Bruce, lying down so his head is resting beside the older man’s. “I just…” He sighs, unable to form the right words. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but… I love you, Dad.”

“Aww, Jaybird…” Bruce’s hand moves sluggishly to cradle Jason. “I love you so much more than you could ever imagine.”

A small smile plays on Jason’s lips as he closes his eyes, leaning into his Dad’s touch. Maybe… maybe babysitting a high Bruce isn’t so bad.

[BONUS!!!]

Dick walks into the infirmary nearly an hour later with Damian trailing behind him, intending to check up on Bruce. He’s been ringing Jason’s phone for a while now, but he hasn’t been picking up. And… Honestly, Dick’s getting worried.

“Tt. I knew we shouldn’t have left Father’s safety in the hands of an incompetent fool such as Todd,” Damian frowns, scowling.

“No, no, it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Dick tries to reassure his baby brother, but he picks up his pace. “I mean, we both know what Jason’s like. One moment he’s nice, one moment he’s—”

His voice trails off as he sees Jason sitting on a chair beside Bruce, who’s on the gurney— both asleep, with Jason’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce cradling him.

“Aww, Little Wing…” Dick smiles, pausing. Even Damian freezes behind him. Dick steers him away, back into the main house, so as to not disturb the sleeping pair. “Yeah, they’re okay. Nothing bad happened.”

[starsenha]

[22] ABOUT THE BOY - knock some sense

synopsis: You were the queen of Decelis University. Everybody worshipped the ground you walked on. You were used to having what you wanted when you wanted it. Until the day when park sunghoon arrived, and things changed. wc: 886 tw: angst

(yizhuo's pov for the texts)

You were lounging in your bed just scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts that had been through your heads ever since you "broke things up" with sunghoon. But again, you weren't really a couple so it wasn't really a breakup per se. You were the queen bee of the school; you weren't supposed to be mourning a guy. Again.

The knock on your door was soft but quite insistent. Before you could respond, the door creaked open and Yizuo stepped inside.

Yoy looked up, your eyebrows knitting together in mild surprise. “Yizhuo? What are you doing here?”

Yizhuo closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she studied you. “We need to talk,” she said, her voice firm but gentle.

You sighed, setting your phone aside. “If this is about the latest gossip or some new drama, I’m really not in the mood.”

Yizhuo shook her head, pushing off the door and moving closer to the bed. “It’s not about gossip. It’s about you and Sunghoon.”

Your eyes flickered with something unreadable, but you quickly masked it with a casual shrug. “What about us? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yn cut the bullshit already, i know what happened,” Yizhuo pressed, her gaze steady and unyielding. “Jay told me everything.”

Your posture stiffened, but you maintained your cool demeanor. “Jay needs to mind his own fucking business.”

“He was just worried about his friend,” she shot back, her tone sharpening slightly. “And so am I. What were you thinking, yn? Telling Hoon that you don’t need him anymore? That it wasn’t serious?”

“It wasn’t serious,” you replied, your voice cold and distant. “It was fun, and now it’s over. End of story.”

“Don’t give me that,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know you, yn. I know when you’re lying—to yourself and to everyone else.”

You stood up, turning away from Yizhuo and walking over to the window. You stared out at the sprawling garden below, trying to collect your thoughts. “Why does it even matter?” you asked quietly. “We weren’t going to last anyway. It’s better this way.”

Her expression softened, but she didn’t relent. “It matters because you care about him. And don’t pretend like you don’t. I’ve seen the way you look at him, yn. You had real feelings for Sunghoon, and I think you still do.”

You clenched your fists at your sides, refusing to turn around. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice strained.

“Don’t I?” Yizhuo challenged, taking a step closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re scared. Scared of getting hurt, so you’re pushing him away before he can hurt you. But all you’re doing is hurting both of you. He's not Sunwoo.”

You hissed at the mention of his name. "Don't ever talk about him ever again." you said firmly. “ And I’m not scared of anything. I’m just being realistic. Sunghoon and I were never meant to be anything more than what we were. It’s better this way.”

“Better?” Yizhuo echoed, incredulous. “Better for who? Because Sunghoon’s been a wreck ever since you told him that bullshit about not needing him anymore. Do you even care what you did to him?”

For a moment, you froze. The image of Sunghoon, usually so calm and collected, being hurt because of you made something inside you twist painfully. But you quickly buried the feeling, forcing yourself to remain composed. It was better this way.

“He’ll get over it,” you said flatly, turning away again. “He’s stronger than you think.”

She shook her head, disbelief and anger mixing in her expression. “You’re unbelievable. You care about him, yn. I know you do. But you’re too damn proud to admit it, and it’s tearing both of you apart.”

You clenched your fists, your emotions warring inside you. But you refused to let her see any weakness, even if she was your best friend. “You’re wrong, Yizhuo. I don’t care about him. I never did. This is for the best.”

Yizhuo’s eyes flashed with hurt and anger, and she took a step back. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, then I’m done trying to help you. But just know that you’re losing something good because of your pride. And I hope you realize that before it’s too fucking late.”

With that, your best friend turned on her heel and stormed out of your room, slamming the door behind her. You stood there, staring at the closed door, your heart pounding in your chest. The silence that followed was deafening, and you felt a hollow ache in your chest that you couldn’t quite ignore.

You sank back down onto your bed, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to steady your breathing, her words echoed in your mind.

Sunghoon’s been a wreck… Do you even care what you did to him?

You squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the guilt and the worry that was now gnawing at your insides, as well as the tears that threatened to come out. But it was too late. The walls you had so carefully built around yourself were starting to crack, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold them up.

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TAGLIST: @arimiu @eleanorheartschishiya @i03jae @beomsitez @hoonatic @rep-hoon @invuzzn @naoyiie @sunhyeswife @sophi-ee @heeseungismymanz @istglevi-gotmesimping @jiaant11 @lakoya @noname-123s-things @roslayy @nyfwyeonjun @aehrizone @serenadehera

[fastboatsmojito]

Nightmares - Scott Miller

| a/n; this isn’t technically for Moontober bc nightmares is day twenty seven and I have something different planned, but I woke up about an hour ago from a nightmare myself and this felt like the appropriate response tbh

| cw; just some angst and a little fluff, talk about nightmares, probably very self-indulgent idk what to tell you, one bed trope whoops, not super proofread as per the tags <3

| wc; 800

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You woke up suddenly, out of breath and sweaty, sitting up and trying to will yourself into thinking about anything else.

“Jesus, you alright?” There was an unfamiliar softness in his voice, probably just from being woken up by your panicked breaths, though you jumped anyway, shaky as you looked over at him, uncharacteristic worry on his face as he sat up.

“Shit sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Just a bad dream.” You mumbled, words caught in the back of your throat proving difficult to come out, both exhausted from a restless sleep and energized from the pure panic and anxiety. That was always the worst part, being too scared of your own subconscious to go back to bed, involuntarily keeping yourself awake to stop yourself from drifting back into the personal hell you’d found yourself in before.

“Do you.. want to talk about it?” His voice still came out low, though the gruff from not having talked on purpose quite yet was peeking through. He wasn’t too sure how to comfort anyone at all - questioning himself more than you, you weren’t so used to it either; his words rather than his voice alone surprising you this time.

You shook your head, less responding to his question - though it sufficed, more trying to shake out the mental picture and get your brain to function correctly because it wasn’t difficult to understand nightmares but understanding why they happen didn’t seem to help much.

You had a sleep journal, you corrected them as best you could in your head after writing them down, you drank stress relieving tea and read articles and books on dream study and what it all means and it helps but it doesn’t fix the deepest, strangest anxieties that build up over time. The bizarre collection of everything you’ve thought about in the last month coming back to haunt you in a way that feels personal because it is.

Your brain knows the absolute worst combination of everything you’ve thought about or seen or heard, and if you eat too much fucking dairy or think about one specific thing for just the right amount of too much time, none of the rest of it matters anymore. And maybe you weren’t doing enough but maybe you just needed someone to tell you that it wasn’t real because hearing it from yourself so often was getting a little old and -

The tears were sudden - they usually are, soft and warm running down your face and you didn’t notice until a tear dropped down onto the hand still clutching your chest.

And then a warm hand was cautiously rubbing your back and your overly-worried coworker was trying to understand. Surprising himself again when a simply reassuring ‘you’re alright’ found its way out of his mouth, yawning quietly after and probably trying not to roll back over and fall asleep - bless him.

If it were just a few days ago you would’ve been shocked at the mere fact you were even in the same bed - a little mixup caused by none other than Javi, but sharing a room was excuse enough to get a little too comfortable for ‘professionalism’.

You gave up on the whole ‘oh I’ll just sleep on this tiny, uncomfortable chair for a few days until it’s sorted’ act days ago, diluting your dignity and climbing into bed with your similarly less than enthusiastic coworker who gave up on that shtick after the first night.

He wanted to go back to sleep - he really did, his eyes were practically closing themselves. But he surely couldn’t sleep next to someone actively crying and though he could be mean and - more accurately; a dick, he wasn’t completely emotionless. In fact he found himself scared that you were hurt or something was wrong and he had no way of fixing it when he woke up to your rushed breaths next to him. He still wasn’t sure he could really do anything, he didn’t tend to have dreams very much at all let alone bad ones.

There was no protocol to go over in his head about comforting a coworker-turned-roommate after a nightmare. He couldn’t exactly control your brain for you, though after a second thought he would if it’d help more than the apprehensive hand on your back.

Once you’d calmed yourself down enough and wiped the slowest string of tears from your cheeks you turned to look at Scott with something akin to a smile in the darkness.

Hoping that it made up for the lack of spoken gratitude that was clouded up in the panic in your head for the quiet comfort he wasn’t really looking to be thanked for anyway.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[erosjournal]

☆ i'll hide my chest , and i'll figure out a way to get us out of here !

~ percy jackson x transmasc son of aphrodite reader

~ synopsis : your boyfriend, percy jackson, finds out that you're trans. he helps you through a dysphoric moment.

~ tw(s) : dysphoria , coming out poorly ...

You stared at yourself in the mirror, frowning. You rotated to the side, checking if your chest stuck out. Thankfully, it didn't. You went back to looking at yourself in the mirror.

Will was the only person you'd come out to since you'd been having terrible rib pain. He checked you up and told you that you need to be taking more binding breaks. You've been trying, but it's hard. It's not fun seeing yourself and your chest in the mirror.

All day, your sides have been hurting, meaning you seriously needed to take a break. So you pulled off your shirt, staring at your binder. Then you pulled that off too. It felt icky, the cold air brushing your skin. Ugh. You avoided the mirror, putting on the sports bra you bought when you needed breaks, then put your shirt back on. There.

Knuckles rapped your cabin door. Your siblings were out.

"Pretty boy, you there?" Oh shit. You forgot you were planning on hanging out with your boyfriend, Percy Jackson. You shuffled around, trying to take your shirt off and put your binder back on.

"Hold on, alright?" You yelled back. He knocked again. He must not have heard you. You prayed as you scrambled into your clothes that he wouldn't come in.

As per usual, the gods didn't seem to care for you.

You paused like a deer in headlights, tears threatening to spill as Percy stood, eyebrows raised, in your room. He shut the door quickly.

"Oh." He muttered. He watched as you trembled, unsure what to say to him. So he turned around and closed his eyes. "I swear I didn't see anything," He promised. You took deep, shaky breaths and shoved your shirt back on. You stood there. Trembling.

"You can turn back around." Percy did so slowly. He didn't seem disgusted or surprised. That was a good sign. You watched as he walked closer to you, dropping everything he was holding. Then he hugged you. And you broke down.

"I'm sorry-- Perce-- I should've-- I just-- I--" You stuttered. Percy hushed, snuggling you until you calmed down.

"You're alright. It's okay." He mumbled soothingly. You didn't know what to say so you just kept tearing up in his arms.

Once you'd calmed down, he wasn't sure where to start.

"We don't have to talk about it today." Percy assures. You shake your head. It feels weird knowing he knows, but doesn't really know.

"No, I... I think we should." You mutter. You take a shaky breath.

"So, you know I go by he/him pronouns, and I've changed my name before..." You start. You'd just told him that you had traumatic pasts linked to your name, or changed it for legal reasons, but the anxiety always lingered. "Well, I'm transgender. Um, so I was born AFAB, and don't exactly identify with that anymore. Yeah." You mumbled.

Percy just nodded along, waiting for you to fully explain before asking any questions or saying anything at all.

"Oh. Hm." He nodded. You bit your lip, unsure what he was thinking.

"Do you still love me?" His eyes widened, surprised as fuck.

"What the heck? Of course!" He yelped, grabbing you back into a hug. He rested his head on yours, frowning. "Why wouldn't I? You're still the same person, trans or not." He assured. You trembled a bit at that. Wow. He really did love you.

"Oh."

He hesitated. "Maybe... take a binding break? I mean, I don't know much about them, but I have a few friends who are trans and so I know that it can be a pain in th--" You stop him with a kiss, smiling proudly.

"Just knowing you care about me is enough. Thank you." You mumble. Percy nodded.

"Of course I do, love." He squeezed you. "Of course I do."

~ an : yay ! i've had this in the drafts for a while and came up w/ this bc i was feeling rlly dysphoric and wanted some loving support from my boyfriend percy jackson ! i hope that all my trans masc fans out there liked this (and was accurate enough, ik peoples experiences are different) and to my other readers that you also liked it !! <3 eros

[the-one-who-lambs]

"Propose," for @bamsara

HI YOUR DOODLES INSPIRED ME HERE'S A POETRY ATTACK. rambling below the cut.

At first, the death waltz is a misstep.

A sickening skeletal crack, a shape of an invisible scythe.

Sincerity is too kind a lie, but His sacrosanct

Protection (you think)

Lets you rise once more.

Death cannot keep you, but you would let Him

If he welcomes you.

You only believe what He thinks you should know.

The flames engulf you after the smoke does,

But your soul has nearly shed its corpse when you see them.

You stand in the vast chain-bound sanctuary and breathe

Fully (your lungs don’t remember being choked).

It is the first of a fitful of

Scorn and surprises and bone fingertips pressed against your skin.

He helps you to your feet.

Your heart should not beat here. In the infiniteness of your bosom it awakens.

The very semblance of the jagged-bare flesh

Encircling your neck is an intimacy in itself.

The blissful torment of the swordsman’s blade

Releases (so close to peril)

And He is already in your periphery.

Call it duty. Call it love.

Choose it as the last decision you’ll ever make.

Fate’s a tarot pull. You draw your card with eyes sealed shut.

You are a disgraced, depraved approximation of a person.

The chill of his embrace is warmer than the hands

That build the bonfire. It is in the name of

Someone (you shan’t say who)

And in the ashes of your grief your reflection

Stares back with three eyes.

The temptation to burn yourself seeps out,

Ichor-like. You don’t die tonight, not yet.

A careful drip of poison. The aftertaste of iron

In your mouth: communion seeping into your own goblet.

A moonshine moment of annihilation, however brief

Before (infectious, echoing, comforting)

You bleed out. You hope you die today.

He hopes you die today. It’s an

Ambrosial veil between you.

You slip beneath it with a sweet hello.

It’s never quite intentional until

The myths surrounding Him fall away.

The secrets you keep are shared, kept safe

Until (your reunion, this time, was not quite an accident)

They are intertwined: you are inescapably

Lonely and in your separate spheres

You vie for dominance. It’s a furious, bloodsoaked rendezvous.

It was always He who waited, but you’ll be patient.

He feels you in every dream. You

Stop time with your voices.

It’s His frustration melting away

With your kisses (you’re not there yet)

And makes Him yours, in freedom,

Dependent on nothing nobody you himself

The fetters are invisible but you hear them

Rattling every time your heart beats.

Your breath need not return anymore so you

Relearn to dodge the aim of an arrow, the pierce of a blade.

Living is foul, a promise half-hidden,

Desperate. (It lingers on your tongue.)

Death bound you together. You know how to die.

You have to remind yourself that heaven lays barren.

It will not hold you

Should Death keep you apart.

Get appreciated idiot /pos /lh

So, this was inspired by this post, which was super wholesome and sweet, but I couldn't write this without infusing it with the urgency and anxiety and sense of danger that looms over The Rehabilitation of Death. Bits and pieces of references to your AU are sprinkled in throughout. I hope you (and my readers and your readers as well) enjoy picking apart the themes here!

I actually wrote this live on stream last night! I made sure none of my friends were streaming before I started because I didn't want to miss anyone if someone was already live, but then you started streaming like 10 minutes later and I was like FUCK now I wanna watch you. But after a couple of hours on my new extra-hard CotL save (OUCH), I switched to writing and just... hoped you wouldn't pop in because I wanted this to be a surprise. For most of the writing part of the stream this poem was titled "IF SARA STOPS STREAMING SEND ME A WARNING."

Anyway, we don't usually get to talk more than a couple times per week because we both have Shit To Do, but you are SO FUN to be around and I am so so glad I met you!! Your friendship is a blessing and your creativity is a gift.

Also posted to AO3 as onethirdofimpossible here!

[tyxoxo]

perv!jeno

fourth time trying to get this to show in the tags, i’m so sorry ㅠㅠ

warnings: dubious consent

milf!lover jeno who is such a perverted piece of shit, appears innocent on the outside as he attends his favorite class, just to see his favorite professor in question, you. but on the inside, he’s thought of the dirtiest fantasies, with no ounce of shame that you were twice his age. who could blame his desires, when you looked so fuckable in your professional attire. 

the only reason he hasn’t failed physics is because of his attendance record. without your presence, he would surely have been sent to the Dean’s office for his negligence. 

his chosen seat in the lecture room, elevated in the back, gave him just the right amount of obscurity to palm himself through his denim jeans as he watched you pace back and forth along the ground floor. 

he actually felt sorry for you.

you seemed disheartened by the lack of enthusiasm in your students, their ambition thwarted from the harsh realities of university—student loans, terrible diet, and all the other vices that came with being a young adult.

jeno knew just the thing you needed. someone like him to destress your mind and body. someone like him that would ravage you beyond repair, so you no longer cared about the miniscule details. 

fucked so hard that all you cared about was him, and his raging cock.  

every day he prayed to whatever god just as vile as him, that the slit in your pencil skirt would grow a little taller. maybe even a hole would appear in your sheer pantyhose; he always loved the look of that. 

if you were inquisitive enough to look past his nerdic qualities, you would never go back to men your age. jeno knew he was the entire package.

but jerking off in his dorm room just wasn’t fulfilling his needs anymore. and his roommate got tired of the constant, wet sounds of him beating his dick into oblivion every night out of the week. so much so that just last week the dorm RA held a “wellness meeting” per request of his roommate.

jeno shook his head free of that poor excuse of a therapy session in regards to his masturbation addiction. today was the day that he would approach you after the lecture.

with a hefty sigh, you said your usual,

“don’t forget the discussion post due tonight by 11pm! everyone have a good weekend!”

you knew your reminder wouldn’t hold much weight. there were only a few that would actually participate. but there was only so much you could do.

and it was a well known fact that physics was among the most-hated subjects here.

luckily, this was the last class of the day. and the weekend was just around the corner. you were excited to try out a new cookware set that your daughter brought you for Mother’s Day, even inviting her and her fiancé over for dinner tomorrow as a show of thanks.

as you packed up your laptop, and planner into your leather tote bag, you were surprised to find that the lecture room wasn’t empty yet. 

the last one, Jeno Lee, had just reached the final step along the walkway. 

you paused on your gathering of items, deciding to give your undivided attention in case he had a question or concern.

the only concern you had, was the hard-on poking past his light blue denim jeans. 

it was painfully obvious, and quite intimidating considering his slim stature. 

“is everything okay Mr. Lee?” 

you tried your hardest to keep your eyes focused on his face, even deciding to zero in on his browline glasses to distract you from his groin.

“yeah everything’s fine.”

he stood in front of you like nothing was amiss, casually hooking the single backpack strap on his left shoulder, his other hand resting in his right pocket. 

“if that’s the case, i’ll go ahead and have my leave now. have a good weekend.” 

you failed at making it less obvious that you were dying to get out of the lecture hall. it wasn’t out of distaste, far from it.

rather, you felt disgusting for liking what you saw. everything down to the simple plain white tee, loose-fitting jeans, and light blue Jordans made you rub your thighs together as you stood there. even the veins that tensed along his forearm as he clutched his backpack strap was enough to make your breath hitch deep inside your chest.

fortunate enough for you, your phone buzzed with a notification from your daughter as you made your way to the exit. 

bringing the phone up to get a clearer view of the message proved futile, as you felt his warm hand snatch your wrist, causing your phone to flail out onto the linoleum floor. 

he waited until your back was turned, like the coward he truly was, to go in for the kill. your entire body swung back to face him, with a single yelp escaping your lips as you tried to fight against the whirlwind that was your student.

you winced as he escorted you back to your desk, back arching from the sharp strike to your spine. chest pressed firmly against his own as he let his backpack slip off his shoulders and onto the floor. the third button to your white dress shirt had popped open upon impact, revealing a lacy black bra that was waiting to be ripped apart, much to his liking. 

you were overly sensitive to the stimuli he forced upon you; wrist beginning to sting from his harsh hold, waist feeling singed down to the bone as he gripped you there with his other hand.  

upon opening your eyes, you were met with a being that surely dreamed of this moment. to watch as you felt his dick prod at the middle of your skirt, licking his upper lip in concentration as grinded upwards into your clothed heat.

his blissful expression soon turned to disappointment as your pencil skirt provided too much of a barrier between his swollen cock. 

he would have to take care of that soon.

despite letting up on your waist, all of your thoughts of an escape were in vain as you heard the familiar unclasp of a belt buckle, yet somehow you couldn’t forge a call for help, not when his lips were millimeters away from your own. 

your eyes trailed from his blown pupils to his mouth as he spoke, nowhere near prepared for the filth that fell from his lips. 

“i hope you don’t mind that i give you another one, since you’re already a mom…” 

[forbiddensonoftheseagod]

◭ "And who cares to know anymore?" ◮ - Percy Jackson

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Many can recognize that when Percy tends to have thoughts, he’ll look into the distance and it’d be obvious as to where they’d wander off to. How his thoughts would darken to the same type of darkness that he’s seen back in Tartarus, twisting shadows bundling up to a robe that’ll tighten which each struggle he’d make. His struggles would falter to a point where he’s accepted that nobody could free him , could save him, could fix him.

Who’s to say that everyone didn’t bother to know anymore? Nobody’s bothered to understand what’s happened above the surface of Percy’s thoughts, overflowing with the sink running that not even he can swim in it anymore, for once he can’t swim. For once, Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon…

Can drown.

For once, Perseus Jackson can drown and sink to the bottom where he’s belonged all his life, deserved to drown and to lose everything and everyone around him. The life in his sea green eyes leaves him, leaving his broken body behind with his broken soul crumbling when leaving its crumbling shell, bound to break at some point. Because Percy isn’t immortal,

He rejected that offer, remember?

But it’s better to have stayed mortal and grow older, rather than stay sixteen [16] and outlive those who have helped him from himself. Because had that been the case, he wouldn’t have witnessed the fall from his friends, watching their lives be taken so heartlessly by Gaea. Five [5] of them, at least…

From Frank, to Piper, to Leo, to Hazel… To Annabeth. And he felt himself drop to his knees as the water as salty as the ocean pooled his eyes as the rain poured down his scarred cheeks, breath coming out sharp and shallow with his throat drying up, choking. How could the hero, the hero, let this happen again?

“No-“ he’d whisper shakily, shaking his head with his body trembling as Riptide clattered on the floor beside his knee, a hiccup leaving his bloodied lips. No, he’d think, lowering his head and holding it between his palms before hiccuping once more, again and again.

His nails dug into his skull, sobbing as his chest heaved up and down. This couldn’t happen again, don’t let it be true, please. Don’t tell him that he’s lost his friends again, please, don’t hurt him this way…

Please, please, dear gods- if you truly have a nice bone in your body, please, he is begging for his life at this point… Please, tell him that it’ll be okay, that some of the gods would be a bit generous and bring them back to him. Bring back those that have helped him on the way, saved him on the way.

Fucking hell- “Fucking hell!!” Percy sobbed once more, calloused and scarred fingers tugging on his black locks, pupils shrinking bit by bit, eyes squeezed shut. It’s not like it’d do much, though, it’s not like it’ll bring any of them back. Crying won’t bring them back, nothing could honestly, and that’s all thanks to him again.

It’s the same shit all over again, it’s the same damn shit all over again, all fucking over again.

Over and over.

And over and over.

And over and over.

He just keeps ruining it all the time, now look what he’s done. Look at the mess he’s created this time.

But who cares, hm? Who cares about how he feels, rather than what actually matters, who cares to know what the kid feels at the moment?

Who cares to know that the kid lost his friends and is now dealing with this misery, like per usual.

Oh who cares…

His chest felt so tight and it reminded him of the time he’s choked that goddess once, now he’s choking, he’s choking and god- Is this how much misery Misery took? Is this how it felt? Surely he’s felt miserable before, why does this surprise him? He’s grown so accustomed to these things, he’s witnessed them, heard them-

Done them.

The scream he let out was from bottled anguish he just couldn’t be bothered to release, he’s never let himself be above anything else, he could wait. But everyone else couldn’t, and everyone else is gone. So he screams… Perseus Jackson screams in anguish.

In anger.

In pain.

In fear.

Everything he’s felt through all these years came out in one blood curdling scream, how surprising it was that the ground didn’t shake the same his father would make it do. No surprise here, to be honest, because he may be the son of Poseidon… But Poseidon isn’t loyal, his son is, though. And because of this loyalty, this excessive personal loyalty that got them dead.

Stupid boy, stupid, pathetic boy. Thinking he could save his friends, his family, at that. Look at him, look at this pathetic excuse of a hero. Screaming turning to cries before resolving to pathetic sobs, crumbling like the overused piece of paper he was, eventually tearing apart until this was all that was left.

This mistake.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

@gh0st-king-nico @will-shoelaces

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚ 500 followers special*̥˚✧

hey guys, it's so crazy to me that i've almost reached 500 followers on my little blog! when i started about one and a half years ago to post on here i never would have expected this!

so, to celebrate, i want to do a little 500 followers special! down below you will find a list of prompts that you can choose from. i will write about the characters i always write, so mainly criminal minds, but also about all the other fandoms/franchises you can find on my page.

to request something is simple! you slide in my dms, comments or asks with the number of the prompt and the character you want me to write with it. you can also specify a ship or x reader, though i usually write x reader. you can also choose 2 prompts and i'll try to connect them!

event masterlist

but now i've blabbed enough, here are the prompts!

✧*̥˚ prompts*̥˚✧ angsty

"Stop looking at me with pity in your eyes. Stop it. Stop fucking looking at me like that!"

"It won't be easy you know... trying to love me."

"No ones ever like... cared about me like that. Why would you?"

"I didn't know where else to go."

"Please, look at me. Breathe, god please, breathe."

"I- I don't know who I am anymore. I'm scared."

"Maybe you should just leave now."

"Please don't make it worse than it already is."

"There are other ways to solve this, please don't leave."

"You don't need to do this, please."

"Tell me what I can do to make you stay. What I can say so you don't leave. I- I need to know how I can fix this."

"Please don't make me leave."

"I should have seen this coming, I should have know better."

"No, don't do this to me now."

✧*̥˚ prompts*̥˚✧ fluffy

15. "Ssh, stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair." 16. "I- I think I am in love with you." 17. "Don't be silly, I want to stay up with you." 18. "Everything is so cold and you're so warm. Please come back to bed, just for five minutes." 19. "Are you blushing?" 20. "You're so cute. I'm melting inside. You can't see it, but I am." 21. "Don't get up, I'll do it." 22. A keeping B from getting out of bed by holding them closer, maybe a few kisses here and there. 23. "Can I sleep in your room tonight? Is that a weird thing to ask?" 24. "I was so worried. It was killing me, not being able ot reach out and touch you." 25. "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?" 26. "I can't... I can't get you out of my mind and it's killing me. 27. "You make me want to do better, be better." 28. "You need to know that I've grown to care for you. Deeply." 29. "It's you, it's always been you." 30. "It kills me to know that you are out there with someone else." 31. "Close your eyes, I've got a surprise for you. Don't peek!" 32. "I never want to leave." 33. "I'd feel much better if you'd let me walk you home." 34. "I love hearing your voice first thing in the morning." 35. "Would it be cliche if we matched outfits? Just a little?"

✧*̥˚ prompts*̥˚✧ smutty

36. "Are you sure? Once we've started I don't think I'll be able to stop." 37. "We could get caught." 38. "So needy, aren't you." 39. "You sure it's gonna fit?" "I'll make it fit." 40. "I- I've never done this before, but I really want to. With you." 41. "... Or we could just get naked" 42. "Let me show you how much you mean to me. 43. "Please don't tease me, I can't handle this right now." 44. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." 45. "I want to fuck you so bad right now." 46. "Oh I can do this all night long." 47. "Oh? Does that turn you on? " 48. "You have no idea how long i've thought about having you like this." 49. "Be quiet, or do you want everyone to know who's making you feel so good?" 50. "Fucking doesn't involve this much talking normally."

a/n: 50 prompts for 500 followers! also, i really want to write more wlw, especially with penelope garcia and emily prentiss (not as a ship per se, both are cm).

you can also come up with your own prompt and i'll include it!

requests open!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

[milly1111]

Beetlejuice fanfic: Revenge Prt 1

My one-shot turned into a whole fanfic--No surprise lmao. I'll upload this in parts :)

(I may move this fan-fiction somewhere else for now here's part one!)

FANFIC THAT’S MADE FOR ADULTS OKAY??

WARNING: Umm pretty much everything, this fanfic will be a wild ride. Suicide, swearing, sex, Beej being a perv, gore, etc.

Pairing: Lydia x Beetlejuice

Okay, now enjoy!

Don’t end yourself, revenge yourself.

The howling sound of the cold wind hitting the walls of a tall standing house upon a hill of grass in Winter River CT. There was silence in the large house, perhaps the owners of this mansion had left for the evening. In the shadows lurked a demon, a poltergeist who hid among the living, invisible, lonely, and longing for attention. He fixed his black and white striped suit jacket, tugging at the top of his long black tie, letting a long sigh past his dead cold lips. His hair a messy unkept deep green, his chalky skin and eyes that are encircled by thick black rings staring dully at the window. 

His energy is chaotic, as he playfully spentWEEKS exploring the dynamic between the new people that moved in. Wanting nothing more than to walk with the living, but there was only one way he could do this.. He was growing eager to terrorize these newcomers for a good laugh, wanting just one poor soul to call his name three times, to see him, to manipulate and use his charm to finally get what he wants. However no one was falling for his usual play. He had scattered ads with his name, ‘Troubled by your problems? Just say my name three times BEETLEJUICE, BEETLEJUICE, BEETLEJUICE  call me now, and watch all your issues disappear!’ , fliers, anything he could possibly think of to get someone to notice him. These idiots as per usual went to ignore his desperate attempts. A low guttural growl erupted from his throat as his mind raced on ways to try and get these good for nothin’s to notice him. Just before he was about to have a fit and trash the damn place, he suddenly heard a creak coming from the roof.  

Lydia, a thick blanket of darkness followed this young adult as she paced the roof filled with sorrow. Her black dress flowing in the cold wind of the night, her ripped designed leggings not doing much to keep her warm. Her dark black hair hitting her tear stained face as her ember brown eyes glared at the note she held in her shaky ringed fingers. Slowly she clenched the note tightly in her hand, a sob coming from her lips as she moved closer to the edge. This was her revenge. She gritted her teeth, letting out a raspy breath as she read her suicide note out loud as her final goodbye. “I am alone. I am utterly… alone. You have sealed my fate with your betrayal. I can no longer stand to be used like a puppet between two deceitful worlds. By the time you read this, I will be gone, having jumped off… There’s no reason for me to stay, I’m an outcast, forsaken, invisible!!!  Goodbye, your not so perfect daughter…Lydia Deetz.” She closed her eyes tightly, taking a step, her foot hanging off the edge of the roof about to take a leap of death until she heard a low chuckle followed by an eerie deep gravelly voice coming from behind her. 

“Well, well, well... What do we have here? Looks like little Miss Goths-in-training is contemplating a little 'pop' of her own!” He chuckled darkly, clearly amused by her suicidal thoughts. “Tell me, sweetheart, what's got you so down in the dumps? Boy trouble? College problems? Work issues? Or perhaps you just can't stand being alive anymore?” Beetlejuice's voice dripped with sarcasm as he leaned against the rooftop, crossing his arms. “Listen, babes, I may not be the most conventional advice-giver, but trust me - jumping off a roof ain't the answer..” Lydia paused, taking a step back from the edge of the roof, turning her head. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

“Who the hell are you??” She was caught off guard as she was now cradling her suicide note close to her chest. Just for a split second his eyes widened, she could see him..?? He had to play it cool.

Beetlejuice grinned widely, showing off his pointed decaying teeth as he straightened up and gave a low bow. “Ah, the pleasure is all mine, darlin’! I am none other than the one and only Bio-Exorcist extraordinaire!” He gestured grandly at himself, his striped suit fluttering in the wind. “I've been stuck in this neitherworld for eons, waiting for someone to summon me. And now, it seems fate has brought us together, you and I. Between you and me, sweetie, life can be a real drag sometimes. But endin’ it all? That's just not the solution. Trust ol' me on this one. There's always another way...So tell me, sweet stuff, what's really eating at ya?”

Lydia arched an eyebrow her shaky hands now squeezing and crumbling her suicide note slightly as she kept it pressed against her chest. She looked from Beetlejuice and to the edge of the roof and then back at him. Her hearts destination not changing, she was done living in a world she wasn’t accepted in. It’s like she walked among the living as if she was already a ghost.. “My dad.. He's remarrying. Believe it or not, my life coach. My mom just died and he.. Well he expects me to be some damn happy–go lucky. I'm mourning…..grieving. And daddy is too busy planning his wedding with that woman, Delia!!” She yelled out her voice cracking with emotion, once again tears welling up in her narrowed brown eyes. “So I'm done!! I’m never going to be his perfect daughter, it’s been like this for 18 years! My mom always saw me.. She saw me for who I truly was..And now she’s gone! I'm invisible to everyone else. Daddy will regret it... I'll kill myself and jump off this roof! This is my revenge. So he can live the rest of his miserable life with the fact his daughter killed herself because of…..him!” A burst of emotion, provoking this motivation sparking a flame in Lydia. She spun on her heel darting back and about to jump off the roof. 

Suddenly Beetlejuice screamed out a quick hoarse “NOOOOO!... I mean..” Quick as a flash, Beetlejuice disappeared and reappeared where Lydia was on the rooftop. He grabbed hold of her arm just as she was about to leap off the edge, yanking her back with surprising strength. “Hold on there, missy! Not so fast!” He grunted, struggling to restrain her wriggling form. “You're not going anywhere until we have a proper chat..” Breathless and slightly disheveled, Beetlejuice kept his grip on Lydia's arm, studying her with a critical eye. “Now, let's try this again, shall we? Start from the beginnin’ and tell me everything. About your dad, this new wife of his, and how ya feeling right now.” Beetlejuice was intrigued by this goth.. It’s as if he understood her on an emotional and energetic level. He’s never been this drawn to a human before, and he just gave into his curiosity..Just a little. 

Lydia wiggled and groaned from irritation glaring at Beetlejuice, as if that look alone, would make him let her go. Who was he to decide whether she lived or died? Each attempt to break free from his death grip was impossible. This demon just stood there waiting for the answers to his questions stubbornly. Huffing as she held her suicide note waving it infront of his face. “Hey! I have a goal to achieve!” She sighed, as she saw she was getting nowhere with this and decided to humour him a little. I mean if she was going to kill herself, why not share her story? 

“I don't know where to start.. I'm from NYC, and I miss my house. It was smaller than this place we live in now. But it was perfect the way it was..” Lydia paused her gaze meeting the ground, her side bangs blocking her eyes as she continued, “My dad made me get a life coach, made us move out after my mom died, now we live here, and then I just found Delia in my dad's room.. I went to him because for once.. Just once, I thought I could vent about my mom.. Yet he NEVER wants to talk about her!! Anyways, after finding Delia in his bed, they announced their proposal..”

Beetlejuice listened intently as Lydia poured out her heart, nodding along sympathetically. When she finished, he let out a low whistle, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, well, well... looks like you've had quite the rough patch lately, haven't ya, babes? Losing your mom, moving to a new town, dealing with your dad's rebound romance... no wonder you feel like jumping ship…” He paused briefly, his eyes flickering over to the suicide note. Without much thought Beej snatched the suicide note from her hands. Lydia gasped blinking when he did this, “Hey, asshole, give that back!” Lydia screamed. Intentionally ignoring her pleas, he scanned over it quickly, before igniting it into flames, letting the ashes float away behind him. He then returned his gaze to Lydia with a lopsided grin over his stupid face.

 “This isn't a plan, sweetie. It's a cry for help. And I'm here to offer you a better solution.” Beetlejuice stepped even closer, his voice taking on a persuasive tone. “Let me handle your dad and this Delia character. I'll make sure they understand what they're putting you through. This note, ya jumping off this roof, ain’t revenge. How about instead of ya diving head first into that bird bath, ya say my name.. Three times? I can help ya, you just have to say my name!”

“..What?” Lydia’s voice barely came above a whisper, not really sure what he was trying to get at.

“Please.. Don’t make me beg! I will. I just–......Okay fine, I’m begging, okay????” Beetlejuice, plopped down on his knees, crawling around on cold rooftop ground to the other side of Lydia. She quickly backed up a little, not sure how to feel about him crawling around on the ground on his damn knees like some animal. “I’m so sick and tired of being all alone in this damn house, and being invisible.. And you–” Suddenly Beetlejuice stops close to her, still on his knees begging, as he grabs her hands looking up with such a desperate plea. “Ya can change all of that!” 

Lydia scoffed, ripping her hands from him, shaking her head. Her whole demeanor became rather cold and heartless. “No I can’t! I can’t change all of that!” Lydia yelled as she leaned down to point her finger at the demon catching him off guard as he flinched, leaning back to dodge her angered motion. “..That’s why I’m— jumping!” Lydia said, pulling back from the ghost on his knees. This girl was definitely a lot different than other clients.. She had some guts, spice, and fire in her. He liked that. Not to mention this one was alive. This was his free green card ticket to Earth!

“..When I’m dead, my dad will be sorry!” Lydia was about to take off once again, making her great escape from this cruel world and making her deathly jump. This triggered Beetlejuice, he scrambled up on his feet rather quickly, “WHOA WHOA WHOA! NOOO!” He yelled as he once again held out his arms caging her, blocking her way from the roof’s edge as he spoke quickly, “No he won’t! You’ll just be….dead. Hey, hey, I get it. You and me, we are not that different. Just..Let me help you. Let me handle those two. Let’s help each other out!” 

She looked at Beetlejuice glaring at him suspiciously. This guy just keeps ruining her goddamn plans. And also pushy as hell. Does this guy not know boundaries? ..But she couldn’t lie to herself, he caught her attention. What exactly could this ghost do for her? He was talking her up a mile a minute, claiming he could solve this issue for her.. Maybe she could rain hell on her daddy’s plan? 

“Oh? And how do you suppose you're going to do that?” Lydia crossed her arms studying the ghost. “Plus they have this stupid dinner date that they want me to go to.. And Delia gave me this...this..” She shivered in memory, “--yellow dress.”

Beetlejuice lowered his arms, realizing he finally got the goth’s attention. He let out a low chuckle of satisfaction. “As for your dad and Delia, leave that to me. I'll make them see things your way... or else.” His voice lowered in a growl as it drifted in the wind. Beetlejuice's grin turned ominous for a moment before he regained his usual playful demeanor. “Now, about this dinner date and the dreaded yellow dress…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “We might need to concoct a little scheme to get ya out of that obligation. But first, let's focus on cheering ya up a bit. How about I show you some of my favorite haunts around this town?” He did this grand gesture as he opened his arms with a grin, attempting to lighten the mood, and diminish that heavy dark cloud hovering over Lydia’s petite form.

Lydia watched Beetlejuice closely, she was trying so hard to get a read on him. His high energy and him doing his best to cheer her up wasn't something she was used to. Especially having someone who actually listened to her vent and wanting to help her, even after her dramatic melt down of wanting to end it all. Hauntings? Screaming? Scaring others? Lydia smirked at the idea, she loved it. “That sounds perfect.. But before that, I need to ask. Why help me? Why stop me from committing suicide?��

Beetlejuice's grin faltered for a brief moment, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. She watched as he uncomfortably shifted on his feet, before he masked it with his usual bravado. “Well, babes, let's just say I've been around the block a few times. Seen my fair share of despair and desperation. And I know firsthand how easy it is to slip in ta the abyss.” He shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the intensity of his gaze. “So when I saw ya teetering on the edge, I figured maybe I could lend a helping hand... or spectral appendage, rather. Plus, it's not every day I get ta work with a livin’ client. Usually, it's the other way around.” 

Lydia noticed that slight shift in his persona when she asked him that question. It was as if the poltergeist was hiding something. Whatever that thing was, it definitely hit him at home. It’s almost as if he understood exactly how she felt, and maybe, just maybe he didn’t want someone else to feel it? Maybe Beetlejuice also felt alone and invisible too. “Soo... You were talking about hauntings?” She decided to change the subject, desperately wanting to feel something other than sadness and loneliness. The urge to kill herself was still there. But having Beetlejuice right by her side, she was finally a little distracted from those thoughts, for now at least. He definitely kept her on her toes, so she didn’t really have the time to pay attention to the darkness that swirled around in her mind. 

“Right-o, Lydia! Let's get this hauntin’ party started!” Beetlejuice clapped his hands together excitedly, causing a small shockwave that rattled the floor beneath them. “I know just the spot - an abandoned movie theater downtown. Perfect for a spooky stroll and some quality time with ya’s truly.” He offered Lydia his arm, grinning impishly. 

Beetlejuice could easily teleport them to the location, however, he knew Lydia was in a dark head space. A walk, some fresh air could possibly get the woman in higher spirits. Then..They can talk about the deal he wanted sooo badly.  “Shall we, my dear? The night is young, and so am I.” He purred out with a wink waiting patiently for this lovely woman to grab ahold of his arm. He could be a gentleman..sometimes. Lydia blinked as he immediately got his spunk back as he started clapping and yelling with excitement. She walked over, wrapping her arms around his accepting the guidance. “Lead the way, I better laugh.. At least once. The stakes are high.” Lydia said dully but deep, deep down she was grateful to be torn away from the bullshit, even if it was temporary. With a dramatic flourish, Beetlejuice led the way, off the roof and to the streets.

[anincompletelist]

happy sunday! :D

you guys were on top of the GAME today love that we're not all posting on mondays anymore shdkhskhgdhfg THANK YOU @stellarm @kiwiana-writes @daisymae-12 @junebugclaremontdiaz @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @getmehighonmagic @nocoastposts @itsmaybitheway @bigassbowlingballhead @wordsofhoneydew @happiness-of-the-pursuit @sunnysideprince an @firenati0n for the tags!!!!!!! BEAUTIFUL WORDS TODAY FRIENDS! :D

I have been bouncing around working on so many different things lately but I've also been obsessed with this song and was like. hmm. yes. I think I will open another doc. and.... here we are? <3

*slightly nsfw*

+

“I heard what you were telling Pez earlier,” Alex says, blatantly admitting to his eavesdropping and actively encouraged by the alcohol-induced lack of filter, “that you can’t find anyone to satisfy you.” 

Something like surprise settles itself into the lines of Henry’s face, even in shadow, that damn blasé amusement that Alex wants to wrestle from him and stomp on until it shatters, something different left in its place. 

“And you believe you’re the man for the job,” Henry supplicates blankly. 

His gaze on Alex is unfaltering, a clear and silent appraisal. Alex feels the jump of his irises to each curve and muscle like dripping wax; scorching and smooth all at once. He squares his shoulders, raises his chin. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I do. You want someone to take you apart, make you feel good—” 

“I want to be fucked, Alex.”

The syllables are loud and harsh, discordant as they part from Henry’s regularly proper inflection but just as earnest, landing somewhere in Alex’s lower stomach. He’s enraptured as Henry steps closer and closes a bit of the distance between them, his steps measured and calculated.

“Preferably by someone who doesn’t think he’s going to break me.” 

“You think I can’t be both, sweetheart?” Alex asks, willing his voice not to falter. “I contain multitudes.” 

“I’ve yet to find someone that capable.” 

“You’ve yet to’ve had anyone like me,” Alex amends, finally pushing off the wall.

+

still not feeling the best so open tag as per usual, but also @affectionatelyrs @inexplicablymine @eusuntgratie @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse <3

[puracatt]

Hi bae, its me again. Getting fucking obsessed at the thought of nikto's stomach swelling up while he's pregnant and he's asking you to milk his tits and his dick because he's leaking so much and he's not even two months in but he barely can even go out for a walk because he just keeps drenching his clothes and pants. I need to inflict irl womanly biological tortures onto a fictional man and confort him. Also I'm in love with you.

!! MDNI !! 18+ RESPONSIBLE FOR CONSUMPTION

tw // pregnant sex/mpreg,,, overstimulation, handjob, silent reader as per usual, desire for self-destruction, nikto talks like 1 time

FREAK!! types on my little keyboard,, chat this is the p2 to the crack mpreg fic

[crying - bjork ]

when nikto is just about to hit the two-month mark, something clicks into place. there's a fire in him that you stew. it's something about your hands, and how you care for him like it's second nature. he doesn't feel like a burden like he should when you're around, always whispering so sweetly and coddling him with gentle hands.

he is a grown man, who should not indulge in the simple pleasures of being doted on. but oh, he does.

nikto is ruined. really, for the last couple of days, he's been in a wet haze. he's drunk on your slow, lingering touches and how soft you are-- he's leaking through his clothes again at the mere thought of you. the hours you're gone for work are a living hell. he can only worry his poor cock so many times. around lunchtime, he grows frustrated and weeps, incapable of doing much more than lying in bed as he leaks onto the cusp of his stomach.

you're back from your fancy office job and working through the buttons of your dress shirt, neatly ironed and bleached by nikto himself. there isn't much else for him to do, other than clean up your work clothes, peruse his ma's old recipe books, and clean his old weapons.

and he, shamefully, comes crawling over with one of your old shirts on and red cheeks disrupted by his scarring. you know he’s already leaking everywhere by the wet smears forming on the fabric. 

he can always come to you for everything. if nikto’s back is sore, he knows you’ll have your palms cradling his swollen stomach in seconds. and he hopes, prays, that you’ll be willing to quell the ache between his legs.

you do. of course you do. 

nikto isn’t surprised that he’s laid back on heaps of pillows that he doesn’t deserve and towels to keep him from staining the fabric. 

but, what does surprise him is how much he can come beneath your soft touches. you’re hardly even grasping him, maybe even just brushing his tip, but it’s enough to have him spurting all over your fingers. he’s been backed up for days, far too afraid to say anything about his heavy balls. he just kept insisting that he was fine and didn’t want to be touched, hoping that you wouldn’t listen, but you did because you “love” and respect him.

you look up at him with soft eyes, and he wonders if you’re disappointed. he is not the man you signed up for anymore, is he? when you say that you’ll be working a little late, are you telling the truth? do you really love him, or are you just staying for the baby. this was a bad idea. he should’ve just--

he whines through his teeth, hips stuttering as he finishes for the last time. nikto wants to go one more time, just one more time-- but you know he can’t handle it. you stop before he can hurt himself. he hates you and loves you for it.

“…why’d you stop?” is all he can manage to say.

you don’t even need to answer. you just look over him, laid out like platter already picked apart and eaten. his legs are spread, and his dick is beyond repair. he looks like he needs a thorough shower, and you probably do to, with your hair disheveled and dress shirt wide open to reveal sweat drenching your undershirt. 

you help him out of bed and guide him over to the bathroom, his legs shaking. you’ll clean up… later.

[moethewriter]

Hey!! Could you do it prompt 7 and 9 with finnick, if you'd like? Thank you I love love love your writing

Of course I can anon! I'm feeling far better than I was two days ago and am excited to get back into writing! Please enjoy! TITLE: In Another Life WORD COUNT: 1.3k PAIRING: Finnick Odair x Reader WARNING: Mentions of Snow unaliving people, angst and general hunger games violence TAGS: GN!Reader from District 8! A/N: That stomach flu going around is really nasty y'all! But I'm happy to be back in the writing seat. As always please let me know if anything needs to be tagged and I shall fix it! Other than that please enjoy! Not beta read as per usual! -

You eyed the targets in front of you and grabbed one of the knives laying on the table, your chosen skill had always been knife throwing. You were good at pinpointing accuracy and taking out someone from a distance with nothing but a blade. The knife felt heavy in your hand as you flung it towards the target, and hit the bullseye. You smiled softly to yourself, and cracked your knuckles, ready to throw another.

“Look at you go, bullseye is back in the ring and everyone is in trouble” A familiar voice rang out from behind you.

You turned your attention away from the targets and smiled coyly at the blonde man in front of you, you knew him all too well. Finnick Odair. Well everyone and their mother knew Finnick Odair, he was The Capitol Darling after all. 

“Finnick.” You said, leaning against the table. “Good to see you, again.”

“Is it?” Finnick raised an eyebrow and shot you a smile. 

“As good as it can be, in the circumstances.” You gestured to the room.

Cashmere and Gloss were training together, you weren’t surprised in the slightest that The Careers were in their own bubble. Some other Victors seemed lost, almost nervous and unsure of what they had to do, or unwilling to show off once more. You had only briefly seen your old friend, Johanna Mason, she had been furious and still was. Some part of you hoped she was off destroying some Capitol property and causing issues, she always knew how to get people angry. You loved that about her. 

“Yeah, not a fan of all of this.” Finnick said, a cross look passing his face. “Being paraded around before our inevitable death, not really my cup of tea.” He spoke so clearly, and you knew it was all a show for the people watching. 

“Our death?” You snorted. “Not mine, I’m going to do everything I can in that arena to make it out alive, and I suggest you do the same, Odair.” 

“You haven’t changed at all.” Finnick laughed, a real smile crossing his face.

It was nice to be surrounded by people who understood you in a fucked up way. You had become a recluse after your games, hiding yourself away in The Victors Village of District Eight. Snow had killed your family, and others you had loved after your adamant refusal to bend to his will, and you had shut down. People weren’t used to seeing you around anymore, and you knew Snow and The Capitol had been shocked when you had volunteered.

“I’ve changed a lot, actually.” You told him, grabbing a small towel to wipe the sweat from your brow. “And so have you … you can’t tell me anyone here is the same, Finnick.”

“That I can’t.” He nodded, agreeing with you. “But we’re still the same people we’ve always been, just a little more fucked up.”

“That I can agree with.” You tossed him one of the water bottles from the floor and he caught it perfectly. 

Everyone who stepped out of the arena as a Victor always came home … a little more fucked up then they had gone in. You certainly had. The countless sleepless nights, and nightmares that plagued you to this day. You remembered every person you had killed, and the ones you didn’t.

“Are you ready for what’s to come?” Finnick questioned.

“Not in the slightest.” You admitted, finally showing some sort of vulnerability since you had left District Eight. “I mean it’s a Quarter Quell, there’s no way that they don’t have some sort of trick up their sleeve to mess with us in there. I mean think of the last one, double the amount of tributes? There’s no way the only catch is going to be that they reaped us.” You shook your head, and took a swig of the water in your hand.

Quarter Quells were extraordinarily different. Whatever Snow and The Head Gamemaker were planning left a sinking feeling in your stomach. Seneca Crane was gone, replaced with Plutarch Heavensbee … you wondered what sick tricks he had in his bag of nightmares. 

Your arena had been a swamp, and it had barely been survivable. You had almost dehydrated in there … if it hadn’t been for your sponsors you probably would have.

“I know. I don’t like this.” Finnick nodded. “I don’t like that any of us are here, but we all should have known better than to trust the Capitol’s word … Snow’s word, that we would be left alone when we were done.” He snorted, screwing his eyes shut.

“Never trust a snake in the grass.” You nodded, not caring what anyone had to say about your words anymore.

You were taking a page from Johanna’s book during this whole thing. She let herself be known, and you were doing the same.

“Have anyone you’re fighting for?” You asked him, wondering if he had anyone back in District Four waiting for him. 

“No.” Finnick shook his head. “Mags is in here with me, and the only other person I’d be fighting to get back home to is in this with me.” He was fiddling with his thumbs, almost as if he was nervous.

“Setting your sights on Enobaria and her teeth?” You teased, punching his shoulder, lightly. “Brutus might kill you for even looking in her direction.”

Finnick cracked a smile. “No. Definitely not Enobaria. Someone else, far more special than any Career that even steps foot through those doors.” He said, finally meeting your eyes.

“Finnick-” You started, the realization starting to dawn on you.

He was talking about you. Finnick Fucking Odair, was in love with you? Of course you hadn’t noticed, you barely saw anyone these past few years … how could he even think about you in that way? It didn’t make any sense.

“I don’t want anyone else, Y/N.” He said. “I haven't since I saw you after you won your games. Even before that I think. I remember sitting there and wondering how someone with … and no offence … no filter and grace could stand before me on that stage in District Four and give a speech like that. You changed me in a lot of ways and when you pulled away from everything … It killed me. I’ve thought about you everyday since you hid yourself away in District Nine and I haven’t stopped. I don’t think I could stop. I want you … I’m fighting for you, even if you aren’t fighting for me.” He reached out and gently grasped your wrist.

The gesture was so simple, yet it somehow filled your entire body with warmth. 

“Maybe I’ll be fighting in there for you too … and we can see how this goes.” You told him, voice cracking.

You knew what the odds were in there, one was coming out, Snow would never allow another two Victors to grace that stage ever again. You were both doomed, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that.

He leaned in and kissed the top of your head.

“We should get back to training, I think we’ve taken too much time to talk.” He whispered, turning his back to you and setting his shoulders square. 

Maybe in another life you could’ve had a great romance with Finnick Odair, but you were certain that both of you were far too late in this one.

“Yeah. See you soon?” You questioned, moving to grab a knife.

“I’ll be around.” Finnick swallowed the lump in his throat.

And with that you were alone, if you had been a better person you probably would have cried, maybe even kissed him right then and there. But you weren’t. You were just … you and all you could do was survive.

[voidcxltist]

REAL QUICK FANFIC TO KEEP THIS ALIVE!!

Decieving a heart - Kallamar & Lamb (Abel)

TW as per usual, infidelity, swearing, unsafe situation in general

Abel, before that Narinder stumbled deeper into his life, found his eyes laying on the corwardish squid of the five silibings, Kallamar. And oh lord, he was something. Handsome, well speeched and even though he barely heard, he had a way with words that was surprising to him.

The blue skinned former bishop never thought that he'd ever be anything else from a disciple for The Lamb, but, to be fair, the idea of being the couple of this godling was a thril, maybe if he put enough effort, they would be sweetly married shortly. And thus, giving him enough power to boss around the feline he hates.

Giving a sweet kiss to Abel, everyday he waved him goodbye in the night, apparently to help in the medbay late turns. Calix informed Abel that no entrance of the mentioned was registered. But he believed in him, blindly.

Soon, his little secret was out. He was seeing various adepts in the mating tent to gain As Kallamar started filling with kisses and caramel filled words, his reason? He felt dissapointed and annoyed that his current partner couldn't produce any son or daughter, and with this possibility at hand, he couldn't throw away his shot.

- Oh, poor you, that idiot can't lay you well?

- Flaccid always, has a problem with drinking and always wants to be the bottom, ugh. I can't stand him. And he's too sticky and too romantical! I just wanna enjoy sex, no, he brings up the "love". And don't get me started on how much I HATE his guts. I just want him for the power, honestky.

Abel, who was in the temple, stepped out to take a small breath of the air of the night, when he heard a bunch of noises coming out from the mating tent. He walked near, and took a little peep into it, expecting to see two of his adepts. It was a harmless eyeing because he had to make sure they were feeling alright the next day, but oh, to take the pain, anger and disgust he felt... to take the betrayal he was feeling after seeing the scene.

Kallamar, straddling the hips of the guy, and grinding against the crotch of this idiot, chuckled low, petting his chest, as he tried to convince him to be his one night stand.

Abel was furious, and he sneaked inside. He stood behind of them both, who were blissfully unaware of the next move. The guy took a possessive hold of the hips of the other man, and the lamb couldn't more.

He didn't hesitated. He shoved Kallamar down and he sunk deep his scythe on the guy's head, who would try to scream, before Abel put a hand over his mouth, and stabbed him repeatedly and aggresively in the chest. He turns to the blue crown's former vessel, who gulped down.

"YOU CHEATER BASTARD FUCK! HOW?! HOW COULD YOU?!" - Abel yelled angrily, pointing his sword at him. How versatile the crown was.

"Abel, baby, I'm not-!"

"I AM YOUR LEADER. AND I COMMAND YOU TO STOP SPEAKING MY NAME. NO MORE ABEL FOR YOU, FOLLOWER SCUM" - Abel spoke, his voice raising, and his usual normal eyes turning into those red eyes with tears.

He lifted it a little higher, pressing it against his throat, making it bleed ever so slightly. Abel wanted so bad to dig sown the sword without mercy... But he couldn't. Not to Narinder's brother.

Kallamar let out an exhale as Abel left it down and lifted him on his feet. But Abel didn't added more.

"Baby, Abel... Come back, we still can enjoy, no?"

Abel turned his head with a dark and almost emotionless frown, denying with his head.

"I won't hear you anymore, Kallamar. You've took your path, and I have to continue mine. You're nobody, to me."

He would sigh, before adding

"I loved you. May this second chance teach you what you need— And go get your things off my tent. I'm not tolerating you anymore."

Kallamar rolled his eyes and muttered behind the poor leader's back - "I didn't loved you anyways."

Abel stopped on his track, flinching and denying with his head more aggresively. Kallamar smirked a little as he knew he got him down onto his ring.

"You know, it's patethic you can't come to sacrifice me for matching an expectative. You're patethic. I understand why you like that feline more than me. Because you can't be less alone. Not even being able to have kids or a proper love life..."

Again, the lamb pointed at him without truing to look... but started running from the tent to his own home.

Definetly, Kallamar was a next level of hypocrite. And, with them being apart, Abel in the following three months, would just be extremly sleepy and needing Calix to remember things.

Kallamar didn't knew, but he destroyed him.

And that was much worse than cheating.

---

By now this will do! Maybe I'll explain further how did it developed the relationship, I'm currently trying to write the other fic and a Shamugoat thing too, so it'll take time I must admit!! Hope y'all like it and stay safe 🙂‍↕️